


Security Breach

by TheNerdGlaze



Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Smut, Smut and Fluff, Voice porn, lots of curse words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-07-08 13:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNerdGlaze/pseuds/TheNerdGlaze
Summary: A disgruntled IT worker on the Death Star finds out that Director Krennic is withholding information about the rebels' security brech from Grand Moff Tarkin.Blackmail leads to a reluctant alliance, to...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are some great FFs about Krennic on this site, but they almost all rely heavily on BDSM, sub/dom dynamics (which are really not my cup of tea), so here's something from the light-hearted side of the Force.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

The server room is hot and stuffy, despite being full of fans.

Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

One thing they never tell you about spaceships is how utterly cold they are most of the time. It’s just difficult to heat them properly. Outer space is fucking cold.

So, all in all, there are worse places to spend the evening than scrolling through the cargo records of the imperial stations.

I’ve worked in the IT department of the Advanced Weapon Research division for the past ten years and since seven I’ve been stationed on the Death Star building site.

It’s a dull job, but it’s not the worst you can get in the Imperial army.

For starters, I’m still alive, which is not bad at all, considering the situation.

The boss of the division is Orson Krennic.

He’s a dick.

We asked for a free caf machine for the Tech’s room last year and he said no because “if I start giving you a caf machine, then everyone else would want one, too” and talked about expenses and so forth.

The worst part is that, somehow, he made it sound like he was totally on our side, and in the end, my colleagues almost _apologized_ for putting him in the difficult position of having to say no.

I didn’t.

What a manipulative bastard.

Every time I have to make a caf with the shitty kettle we have in the Comm room or climb to Deck one to spend two credits for a cup, I’m pissed at him.

I always tell Maryn, my team leader, that we should unionize, and organize to get a pay rise, benefits, and everything.

It worked for the workers of Holonet! They made a strike and…well, I don’t know the specifics, but they don’t get as killed as they used to. And they have dental insurance.

“Nat, this is the Imperial Army”, she always says, often sighing at me. “It’s called insubordination.”

“It’s a fine line!” I protest.

Mind you, I don’t want to defect or anything.

I love the Empire.

I was born on Dantooine, which used to be sort of a quiet place until the Separatists came along and told us we had been “freed” from the Galactic Republic.

Except that they didn’t have a clue about how to rule a planet, so most of the population ended up starved, slaughtered or, as in my case, enslaved.

Thank you very fucking much.

I spent the better part of my childhood being shipped like cargo from planet to planet, shovelling fathiers’ dung or working in doonium mines, until the Empire came along.

Say what you want about the Imperial Army, but they put a roof over my head and when they realised I had a shitty aim but was good with computers, even made me study and enrolled me into the Corps of Engineers, and that’s where I’ve been since then.

What has rebel scum done for me? Just given me problems, that’s what.

To be completely honest, I am quite attached to this space station. I’ve personally written a lot of the security software for it, and I’m proud of that.

The Grand Moff threatens to cut funds every other day, but I don’t think he will.

The Death Star is too big to fail, if you know what I mean.

Still, it’s from his office that I received the order to go through the records of the cargo transports of the kyber crystals because apparently some rebel band has started blowing them up.

What a pain in the ass.

All the documents are classified and only accessible through an intricate system of authorization, and I have to check every single access, so it’s a long and tedious job.

I’ve been doing this for weeks and I haven’t found anything.

I check the watch: it’s late and I should really go to bed.

As Techs, we have some less discipline than the average Stormtrooper, but the morning alarm is still damn early.

I’m about to close the files when I notice something unusual.

It could be nothing: an authorization to check the cargo documents coming from the Research department.

Now, this isn’t against the protocol: an officer from Research might have to check the shipping documents to check the incoming supplies or, you know, whatever he needs to work with.

The interesting thing is that whoever logged in didn’t use his own user, and somehow the access looks anonymous.

How did that happen?

I wonder if it’s just a bug in the system, or perhaps the signal of something more alarming.

I tap my fingers on the desk, thinking about the possibilities, while in the end I resolve that this is really beyond my job, and I will think about it tomorrow.

For the record, I group all this info in a message and send it to the boss, so he will transmit it to the Grand Moff if he thinks it’s important. In the end, it’s not my call.

I’m about to turn off the lights and leave the room when Krennic himself storms in.

He looks elegant and well-groomed as always, but there are lines of worry under his blue eyes.

His white cape flutters after him.

I mean, he wears a cape. A fucking cape.

Even here, in this space station building site.

He has his own custom-made uniform, that he pays for himself (I know, I had to upload the invoices in the system!).

What is even the point?

Shouldn’t uniforms be all the same by definition?

What a dick.

“I’ve just read your message”, he says. “Show me the log.”

Please and thank you, I resentfully think, but I turn on the terminal again and open the files.

“So, you see, someone went through all this document on this date here…” I point at the data “but we can’t tell who. I just know it’s someone from the Research Department because of this code here, that means the access is generated from one of our terminals…”

He stretches his neck to see the monitor and for a moment he’s so close that I can almost feel the heat radiating from him.

It’s so weird.

I’ve talked to him before (as in the caf incident), but usually he deals with people much higher-ranked than me, so it’s somehow disconcerting to have him so close.

His eyes narrow: “What could be the reason?”.

I shrug: “Could be just a coding error or a defective terminal. Or someone could have done it on purpose, but it must be someone really skilled.”

“If they’re from Research, they probably are”, he reflects.

He has a point.

“Have you ever found this error before?”

I think about it: “Er… no, I don’t think so.”

“So, it’s highly suspicious…”

He just stares at the monitor for a while, and I can see that his thoughts are racing.

After a while, I stifle a yawn. I don’t think I need to be here while he works out some machiavellian theory about the rebels’ possible infiltration.

“Sir, I will send the log to the Grand Moff’s office, and I will keep you updated about any progress”, I say, wondering if he’ll take the hint and go and ponder somewhere else.

Instead, he flinches: “What…no, no, don’t send anything. I will deal with General Tarkin about this.”

“Er… his lieutenant assistant explicitly ordered me to send him whatever I found, saying that it was of utmost importance to keep him informed, so I should really…”

“The Grand Moff is informed and anyway my orders outrank the lieutenant’s, so don’t worry about that.”

I normally wouldn’t question the orders of the Director of my Division but it’s my ass that is going to get kicked by the Grand Moff’s assistant if I don’t follow his directions.

“But…” I start.

“Just leave it!” he roars.

I wince, surprised by his outburst.

I’m almost- almost- about to do as he says, then I take a look at him.

Like, a really good look.

He’s not just mildly worried, he’s blatantly under a lot of stress: there’s a manic expression in his eyes, and his jaw is clenched. I never saw him like this.

For the first time in seven years, he’s showing concern. And weakness.

“You have no intention of telling Tarkin about this, do you?” I hear myself saying.

Krennic frowns: “What?” he asks like he can’t believe my audacity.

I inwardly curse myself for not keeping my mouth shut, but I can hardly take it back now.

I move closer to him: “If Tarkin finds out that we had info about this possible rebel breach and didn’t share it with this office, you might be assigned to a different project, but I might as well end up in front of the court-martial!”

He scoffs.

“Now, there’s no need to be so dramatic…”

“Yes, there is, I’m not some fancy director straight from the Future Program! I am risking much more than you are and…”

He threateningly grasps my arm: “I am risking everything!” he hisses.

He looks like he might blast me there and then, but I’m too furious to be afraid.

I wriggle away from his grip and point an accusing finger at him.

“If you want my silence about this, you’ll have to pay for it!”

“Then what do you want?” he yells.

“I want a damn caf machine in the Tech room!”, I yell, louder.

He blinks, gobsmacked.

“A… what?”

“Yeah, you heard it. A caf machine. One of the big fancy ones with the pods like you have in your office, not one of the crappy filter ones.”

For a moment, I see the face of a man who can’t believe he’s getting away with something so easily, but then he schools his features in a neutral expression.

“That… can be arranged”, he concedes.

“And free pods.”

“Of course.”

“And… and…”

 _Shit, shit._ What do I want? I don’t even know.

I’m such a terrible negotiator.

“Perhaps you might be interested in a… promotion?” he suggests.

“Fuck, no”, I exclaim, before I can contain myself. “Everyone who gets in contact with army officials tends to turn out killed. And Stormtroopers get shot by the dozen. I have no intention of changing position. I want to stay alive, thank you very much.”

He lifts an eyebrow: “Well, you know, blackmailing your boss is that kind of thing that makes you conspicuous.”

_Shit, shit, I’m fucking up, I’m fucking up so badly._

Krennic suddenly plasters a benevolent smile on his face.

“Listen…” he checks my badge “Reesher, is it? Natalie…?”

“Natyl”, I mumble.

“Ah yes, of course. I remember now. We talked about this caf machine before, haven’t we?”

“Last year.”

“Yes, I recall now. You’re a very determined lady. I respect that. But…” he puts an arm around my shoulders and I’m too shocked to stop him “… it doesn’t need to be this way. I believe we started on the wrong foot. We are on the same team, you and I.”

His smile looks so sincere and his crystal-blue eyes sparkle with such warmth that I might even fall for the act if I didn’t know him so well.

“It’s late tonight and we are both on edge, aren’t we? Why don’t you go to your quarters, sleep on it, and perhaps tomorrow we’ll talk about it again?”

“Don’t try to cover it up!” I warn him “I saved everything on a shared folder, and if I don’t log in tomorrow and cancel it, it gets sent automatically and no one can stop it.”

It’s a bluff, of course. I have not done any of that, but Krennic doesn’t know it, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know if that’s how the IT system works.

He chuckles: “There’s no need to be so defensive. I, on the other hand, was just thinking that we could collaborate on this matter. I do appreciate your initiative and your insight. It will also look much better when we will show Tarkin real progress instead of vague suspicions, wouldn’t it?”

I shrug: “I guess.”

“That’s a good girl.”

I push his arm away.

“Call me good girl again and I’m sending all directly to Tarkin’s comlink”, I threaten.

He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Of course, of course.”

It isn’t I finally leave and reach the dormitory that I realise that that damn prick has just manipulated me into hiding from the Grand Moff sensitive information and work for him instead.

All at the price of a stupid caf machine.

_I am so screwed._


	2. Chapter 2

That night I toss and turn in the bed, getting no sleep at all.

I keep panicking that Tarkin will find out about the information I withheld from him and execute me, or that Krennic will murder me to hide the breach.

He’s perfectly capable of doing it.

As soon as I manage to calm down and tell myself that everything will be fine, and I will get out of this alive, my heart starts thrumming in my chest again, as if I was about to have a stroke.

If Krennic doesn’t kill me first, stress will do me in for good.

It’s already morning when I finally fall asleep, exhausted, so I’m the last to check in the Tech’s room in the morning, and I’m surprised to find all my co-workers assembled in a corner.

“Oh Nat, here you are”, Maryn exclaims. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks”, I mutter. “I feel like shit. What’s going on?”

“We just got a delivery”, Kodjor from Logistics announces, in a rather presumptuous way.

And then I see it, on a table that looks too small under its weight: a huge, shining caf machine, complete with a box of pods and little jugs of blue milk.

My heart skips a beat.

Krennic is keeping his side of the bargain- does that mean he’s not going to kill me? Or is he going to keep me quiet until I finish the work for him, and then I’m as good as dead?

“You see, Nat?” Kodjor goes on. “You and all your talk of insubordination…”

“Union.”

“Whatever”, he shrugs. “In the end, working hard and keeping your head down gives better results than antagonise people in charge, as you do all the time.”

I have to bite my tongue to hold in a retort. If he only knew.

“Krennic must have noticed all the hard work we’re doing in this station and decided to reward that.”

“How generous”, I grumble.

“Most likely he had a spare one he didn’t know what to do with”, Wagg comments, so that only I can hear it.

I like Wagg. He’s the eldest Tech in my department and he’s the only one who despises Krennic as much as I do.

I mess with the machine until I manage to make a cup of caf.

 _Damn, it’s good,_ I think as I take a sip.

It’s much better than the filter one, or the one from the vending machine.

_Almost worth being murdered for._

Somehow, it makes me hate Krennic even more.

“Nat, how’s it going with the investigation on the shipping records?” Maryn asks.

“Oh good, good, everything going smoothly”, I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

She looks impressed: “So you found the source of the breach already?”

“No!” I hasten to say. “No, no, I mean, smoothly as in nothing unusual, just the same boring records… nothing at all.”

_I am the worst liar ever._

I wish I could slap myself to make me shut up.

She frowns: “Do you need help or…?”

“No, no, I’m absolutely fine”.

I move towards the door: “I’m just going to go… checking. You know.”

I manage to get out of the room before saying anything else, but I notice Maryn is watching me with a suspicious expression.

I spend the next couple of hours trying to find out more about the anonymous access.

Apparently, the code is generated by a terminal that has to be on an Imperial base on a planet- space bases have different addresses.

The problem is, there are so many of them and some of the digits don’t seem to have any correspondence in my list.

I am fruitlessly comparing the address codes when Krennic shows up, entering the room with his white cape swirling after him.

That’s what he always does- never knocks, never hesitates, just walks in dramatically.

_Pretentious jerk._

“Natalie”, he greets me.

“Natyl.”

He waves a hand impatiently: “Yes, that’s what I said. Have you discovered who caused the breach?” he just asks.

“Not yet.”

He looks annoyed: “I’ve delivered the caf machine”, he reminds me.

“Yeah, thanks… er… it makes a very good caf”, I add.

“Then why don’t you have results yet?”

I scoff: “The caf machine is to keep me quiet, which I have. Results are a whole another matter.”

He walks closer, so close that I can see every line on his stupid freckly face.

“Tarkin keeps badgering me. I need to know who’s hijacking my cargos.”

He has the faintest lisp. It’s something I’ve noticed before.

When he’s restrained, as most times, you can’t hear it, but when he lets his guard down or he’s nervous it comes back.

“I’m working on it”, I assure.

As he sits down, I briefly explain to him what I’m attempting to do, although I don’t know how much of the specifics he can understand.

Krennic’s supposed to be an Architect, but I’ve never seen him working on anything technical- just strutting around trying to lick some eminent ass.

He looks at the monitor, frowning.

“I see what’s the problem.”

I’m surprised: “What?”

He leans back on the chair: “Some of these facilities are top secret, so you won’t find them in the list. It’s highly restricted information, you cannot access it with your credentials.”

“Oh. Can you give me your access, then?”

He looks at me intently, probably weighing the risks of granting me access to his computer.

“Look, I’ve made updates and scanned everyone’s computer for years. I won’t look into your personal documents.”

It’s a bit of a lie. Of course I’ve already looked into everyone’s private files.

It’s not like I purposely investigate, obviously, but sometimes you have to clean up folders and you find… something you’d rather not see.

For example, I once had to clean up Grand Moff’s Tarkin comlink and… whoah. Proper dark stuff.

I’d rather not think about it.

But Krennic’s… alright, I guess, as much as it pains me to admit it.

He makes a lot of research about gossips in Coruscant and has a men’s fashion magazine subscription under a different name, but I’ve seen worse.

He rolls his eyes: “That’s hardly an issue. However, the information accessible with my credentials cannot be at risk. It’s better if you do it from my personal terminal.”

Typical of him not to bother with how much a lowly Tech knows.

I shrug: “Fine.”

He leads me to his office, always marching like the conceited prick he is, so I have to move from side to side of the corridor not to be slapped by his cape.

I just can’t wrap my mind around why he thinks a cape is a good or practical idea, especially if you live in a space station with limited walking space.

Krennic’s office is the very opposite of our room, as it’s spacious, airy and well-lit.

He has a huge desk that for some reasons he keeps completely empty except for the terminal keyboard.

I mean, what’s even the point of having this big ass table if he doesn’t even occupy an inch of it?

It’s basically the furniture equivalent of his cape.

I log in on his terminal and suddenly the codes make much more sense.

“Whoah… where are all of these places?”

There is a shitton of secret bases that I never heard about.

“Wait, no, don’t look into that!” Krennic exclaims. “That’s restricted information.”

“But how am I supposed to…?”

He tries to move my hand on the keyboard, and I instinctively wrestle him away.

“No, don’t push on that button!”

“Just let me go, then!”

At that moment his hologram projector goes off and Grand Moff Tarkin appears on Krennic’s desk.

“Director Krennic”, he greets him coldly.

There’s an awkward moment in which Krennic and I disentangle from each other and I try to discreetly move away from the holoprojector.

Tarkin stares at us as if he was trying to make the whole thing as embarrassing as possible.

“I have called you to ask for your confirmation about the demonstration… if you’re not too busy with your personal affairs, that is”, Tarkin says.

Krennic clears his throat: “Of course, it’s confirmed. We are already travelling towards Jedha. The weapon is fully operational.”

“Very well. But remember: the Empire will not tolerate further waste of time and money. If the demonstration will be disappointing- “

“It won’t be”, Krennic cuts in. “I am very confident of its potential.”

Tarkin all but rolls his eyes.

“The Emperor has already shown too much patience for your failures and the disastrous project you’ve spent all these years wrecking. I believe you’ve already contained your problem of security?”

Krennic shoots a brief look in my direction.

“I’m very close.”

Contempt is written all across Tarkin’s hard features.

“I will board the station in Jadha’s orbit in two days. I expect you to fix all your issues by then.”

With that, he closes the communication.

There’s a moment of tense silence, while Krennic avoids looking at me.

He seems dejected and I’m surprised to feel a pang of sympathy towards him.

“What a dick”, I finally say before I can help it.

Krennic looks up, surprised: “The Grand Moff General Tarkin is your superior and this language…”

“He’s a complete asshole”, I insist. It’s not like he can sanction me, anyway. Not in these circumstances. “Disastrous project?! This baby here?” I fondly slap a hand on one of the walls. “He’ll see at the demonstration. I wrote the launch code of the laser myself and it’s a thing of beauty. That dick will see!”

“Yes”, Krennic agrees, looking slightly more hopeful. “It will work splendidly.”

“Of course it will. Why shouldn’t it?”

“They will see”, he mutters, perhaps more to himself than to me. “Tarkin is a dick. He has it in for me just because he can’t launch his Tie Defender project.”

I nod in solidarity: “He can launch his Tie Defender up his ass for all I care.”

Unexpectedly, Krennic bursts out laughing.

I’m amazed because I’ve never seen him laughing before: cold smiles, sniggering yes… but never like this. It makes him look younger. I have to avoid looking into his sparkling blue eyes, because I feel I might start to like him, and that’s obviously absurd.

I mean, he’s fucking _Krennic_. If Tarkin is an asshole, so is he.

After this conversation, Krennic seems less paranoid about my access to his files, so we spend some hours trying to identify the source of the anonymous access.

I know the system better than he does, since I’ve worked on it for the past seven years, but I’m surprised to see that he knows how everything works on the Death Star, from logistics to security, to the mechanics of the propulsors.

Yes, he’s a pretentious jerk, but I must admit that he’s very smart too.

It’s funny because it doesn’t show when he’s playing all his political games. He just shows off all the time. I wonder if there’s an insecurity deep down in him.

Unfortunately, whoever was trying to cover his traces when tracking the kyber crystals is fucking smart too, because we can’t find the source of the access. It looks like it comes from a base that doesn’t exist.

“Wait a minute”, Krennic says, at some point.

“What?”

He narrows his eyes: “This code here. I’m positive I’ve seen it before.”

“Mmm… oh, right! This is just the identification of the cargo ship.”

“It’s on all the shipments of kyber crystals. Even when they were originally assigned to another ship, then it’s this one who eventually transports it. Why?”

I shrug: “I don’t know. Perhaps because other ships are not as well equipped?”

Krennic looks dubious, so I open the files until we identify the ship and its pilot.

“Looks like he is based in… ‘Eadu’, whatever this facility might be.”

At these words, he leans back on the chair: “Oh, it’s fine then. He works with Galen.”

“Who is Galen?” I ask.

Krennic shrugs: “A friend. But that means he has nothing to do with the breach.”

He seems very confident.

I wonder what it’s like to be friends with Krennic.

Lonely, I imagine.

I don’t know what time it is and in a spaceship it’s impossible to tell from the light, but I feel extremely tired, so much that I’d like to lay my head on his pristine, empty desk and take a nap.

Instead, I close the file, feeling a bit disappointed. We are back to the starting point.

Unexpectedly, Krennic puts a hand on the back of my chair… not quite on my shoulder, but…

“We’ll get there”, he says, confidently. “In a couple of days everything will be different. When the Emperor will see what the Death Star can do, Tarkin will be insignificant.”

“And then what?”

“Oh, I have plans. The Death Star is just the beginning.”

Then he looks at me.

“You, on the other hand. Have you decided what you wanted for your silence? Caf machine aside, I mean.”

“Yeah”, I reply. “I want a pay rise and to be transferred to a nice quiet station, possibly on a planet with a good climate.”

“That’s… not unreasonable.”

His eyes look like he’s smiling, although he isn’t, not quite.

We couldn’t be more different, I reflect. He dreams of Coruscant and the Emperor’s inner circle, while I just want to be as far away as possible from any preoccupations.

Maybe these are the last two days we spend on the same station, and then we will never see each other again.

Which is perfectly fine for me, mind you.

It’s not that I want to have anything to do with Krennic obviously.

“You remind me of Galen.” he says.

“Your friend?”

“Yes. He is very intelligent but doesn’t have any people skills.”

I frown: “I have plenty of people skills. A fuckload of them.”

He laughs again.

A part of me should feel offended, but it’s difficult when he keeps chuckling like that.

Suddenly the doors open and a guy with a cleaning uniform enters the room.

It’s Randyl. I know him because he’s friends with Kodjor.

“Oh, sorry!” he exclaims when he sees us. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

Krennic just gestures him to go away, while I stand up: “You didn’t interrupt, I was about to go away!” I hasten to point out.

“Were you?” Krennic asks, confused.

“Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself to me”, says Randyl.

“I don’t- I wasn’t-“ I start saying, but he has already left the room, snickering.

“What’s the matter?” Krennic asks.

“It’s… he finds us here, alone, way after working hours…” I try to explain “He’s going to think we’re banging or something.”

He shrugs: “It doesn’t matter. As long as he doesn’t think we’re trying to investigate the security breach behind the Grand Moff’s back, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine to me! Shit, they can’t possibly believe I’m fucking you.”

“This is becoming offensive”, he scowls. “It can’t be _that_ embarrassing.”

“It is”, I nod. “I mean, no offence, but it undermines my credibility. They’ll never listen to me when I talk about unionizing if they think I’m banging a boss and- “

“Unionizing?”

“Yeah, you know, going on strike to demand more rights, better pay…”

“I believe it’s called insubordination”, he points out.

“It’s NOT the same thing, ok?” I snap.

He gets up to get himself a glass of water.

“They’re just going to believe you fell for my charm. For your information, I have some reputation in this matter”, he explains, smugly.

It’s my turn to burst out laughing.

“No, you don’t.”

“What?”

“I’ve literally lived in your same space station for seven years and I’ve never heard a single person talk about you as a lover or even just as someone remotely interested in having any kind of contact with anyone else.”

He looks stunned.

“Well… it’s been a… very stressful decade, but…”

“You know who has a reputation? Lieutenant Ar-Char, that guy from Mon Cala.”

Krennic almost spits his water: “Please. He’s a giant squid.”

“Director, that’s a discriminative language. Besides, he’s very nice, got a great sense of humour… and they say… you know.”

Krennic stares at me, uncomprehending.

“Apparently… it’s all about the tentacles.”

He shudders, looking as wounded as someone who has just learned he lost a popularity contest against a squid.

I get up to go back to my quarters.

Krennic looks at me sideways, as he opens the door for me: “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Try… the tentacles.”

I gently pat his arm: “Goodnight, Krennic.”

His uncertain expression is the last thing I see of him before leaving the room.


	3. Chapter 3

“For the last time”, I mumble, rubbing my eyes and adding yet another spoonful of sugar in my caf, “I am not fucking Krennic.”

“Then what were you doing in his office last night?” Kodjor asks, with what I assume is an astute expression. “Randyl said you were very close.”

He waited for me this morning to drop the bomb in front of everyone else, so right now I am the centre of gossip.

We all really need to get out of this station more often.

I shrug: “Just work. Tarkin’s coming to test the laser tomorrow, he’s all anxious about it. You know what he’s like, come on. And you know he’s despicable, it’s not like I would be interested anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that”, Marys says. “He was known for being quite the ladies’ man, back in the days.”

I lift my eyes from the caf: “Really?”

So he _does_ have a reputation. And I thought he was just delusional.

“Yeah, you know, when he was in Coruscant. Famous for partying all night long, having a long list of lovers…”

“ _Krennic?!”_

I don’t know how this information makes me feel. If we were talking about someone else, I’d say I was… upset? Perhaps even jealous? But obviously I couldn’t be jealous of Krennic’s lovers.

I mean like, come on.

“We’re talking about 20 years-old gossips,” Maryn shrugs. “Since he got so involved with the Death Star project apparently the music changed.”

“Oh, ok.”

Kodjor smiles knowingly: “So are you sure there’s nothing you would like to confess?”

“No!”

“Come on, leave her alone”, Maryin intervenes, then turns to me. “They’re just having a laugh. We know that you’re not banging Krennic.”

“Thank you.”

“He’s probably got some rich, well-connected girlfriend somewhere in the Galaxy, that he goes to Imperial parties with, or something like that. He’s not the type to mix with low scum like us.”

“Yeah, exactly”, I nod. “That’s what I was trying to say.”

It’s such a strange conversation. The more Maryn agrees with me, the worse I feel.

I take another sip of caf, looking for some comfort.

“Well, Krennic’s got a big dick, got to give him that”, Wagg mutters.

I snort the caf out of my nose.

Wagg is still telling us about that one time that he pissed next to Krennic during a mission on Geonosis, and I’m still coughing out caf when the Director himself storms in.

My mind, in an effort of self-preservation, tries its best to erase from my memory everything I’ve just heard.

“Natyl”, he yells, “what the hell is going on?! Why is there the identikit of that damned cargo pilot on every datapad of the galaxy?”

“Er… yeah, about that”, I awkwardly say, “there was an unforeseen development.”

He’s red with rage: “A… what? And what were you waiting for before telling me?”

The good thing about his outburst is that it cancels every romantic doubt about our relationship anyone might have had.

The bad one is that now I have to explain to him that this morning I found out that someone from Tarkin’s ship has diffused identikits of a pilot called Bodhi Rook who apparently defected from the Imperial Army and was now wanted everywhere in the Galaxy.

I follow him to his office and I tell him all I know.

“That’s the same guy who was on every kyber crystal shipment. It can’t be a coincidence!” Krennic says.

“It’s not”, I agree. “I think it’s likely that he’s the cause of the security breach.”

“And now he defected, so we lost our chance to interrogate him”, he paces back and forth, completely beside himself. “And the worst aspect of it is that Tarkin is aware of it, and he’s probably just waiting for someone to denounce our project, so he can take over and…”

“Hey, wait, wait, slow down. I don’t think all his lost”, I say.

He looks at me, half enraged and half hopeful.

“We trace his comlink’s signal, we find out where he is and…” I mimic shooting a blaster, “Security breach contained.”

Krennic moves closer to me and looks me intently with his crystal-blue eyes.

“Can you do it?”

“Yeah, I mean… I can- I can try” I stutter, realizing I am blushing.

Blushing?! _Me?_

The last time this happened I was probably still back on Dantooine.

I can’t wait for this stupid spaceship to be tested so I can bugger off somewhere else.

Somewhere far from Krennic.

I clear my throat: “We can’t do it from here, I need to use the terminal in the server room, it’s the only computer I can use to access the network the comlinks use.”

“Let’s go then.”

He escorts me to the server room, then takes a chair in front of me.

I turn my attention back to the computer, where I log in again with the Director’s credentials and access the comlink’s network.

I work to trace the signal for hours, while Krennic keeps waling back and forth in front of the desk, which doesn’t help my concentration at all.

Sometimes people come in the room, then leave in all hurry upon seeing him.

“You know, you don’t need to be here all the time. I can just call you if I find something”, I suggest.

“You mean when you find something”, he interjects. “And anyway, no. Neither of us is leaving the room until we find where that damned pilot is hiding.”

“No pressure, eh?”

“I don’t understand” he says at some point. “If we can do it, why don’t we use this technology to find the rebels?”

“I didn’t say it anyone can do it”, I point out, without taking the eyes off the monitor. “ _I_ can do it because I’m fucking great at this.”

Sometimes caf cups appear next to me, and I avidly drink them.

It takes me a while to figure out that it’s probably Krennic himself who brought them.

I don’t even know what time it is when I finally manage to track the signal.

“There he is!” I yell in triumph “And it’s moving. I bet he thought that turning it off was enough to make it untraceable but he’s still wearing it. What a dick.”

Krennic immediately jumps in front of the monitor.

When he reads the coordinates, I can’t help but burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe it…” he says.

“The fucker’s hiding on Jedha!” I exclaim.

He smiles: “And we’re bursting out Jedha city in a few hours!”

“Let’s just blow the whole planet up, just in case. Boom!”

“Yes, that’s a great idea”, Krennic reflects, “Boom!”

I’ve never seen him so happy and relieved, which is probably a little alarming, since we are discussing the use of a weapon of mass destruction.

But- what the hell. Right now I’m happy too.

Krennic is next to me, looking at me with something that can be mistaken for admiration.

He takes my face between his hands. They are large and warm, and I’m not sure I’m understanding what’s going on, but-

Suddenly the door opens and a couple of Stormtroopers place themselves at the sides of the entrance; then the Grand Moff Tarkin walks in.

He always looks much more composed then Krennic, and yet I find him terrifying.

The Director and I simultaneously jump in front of the monitor to cover it, and Krennic produces a smile that is supposed to be nonchalant but just makes him look like a complete dick.

“Finally”, Tarkin declaims. “I have boarded this station more than an hour ago and nobody was able to tell me where you were. I expected a more organised reception upon my arrival, but I’m afraid I must say that the staff seems to be in complete disarray.”

Krennic keeps smiling, but I can see his jaw twitching.

“A belated welcome to the Death Star, then. The demonstration is scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I appreciate that you are so eager to see it that you decided to show up unannounced a day in advance and expected the whole personnel to be at your disposal.”

Tarkin scoffs: “I trust that your weapon is ready and you haven’t made me travel to this obscure corner of the Galaxy to assist to yet another failure.”

“I trust that you’ll be able to see it for yourself.”

There’s so much tension between them that you could cut it with a knife.

As usual, I don’t really know what to do, so I just wait there hoping that Tarkin doesn’t notice my presence.

Unfortunately, he starts studying my face and then the terminal behind me.

“Are you still working on the comlinks configuration? I expected that phase to have been completed months ago”, Tarkin says.

Krennic makes a good job of pretending Tarkin just said something of little importance: “Oh this? Just some routine controls, that’s all. Now, I trust that a man of your importance has more significant things to do than assisting to every security protocol check of the ship?”

“As a matter of fact, I do”, Tarkin glares at him, “I expect to find you on the deck tomorrow morning. And I warn you, I am not very patient with those that make me wait.”

Finally, he gestures to his Stormtroopers that precede him out of the room and leaves.

We wait until their steps fade out before letting out a relieved sigh.

“By the Force, what a prick”, I comment.

Krennic nods: “I can’t wait to see his face when the laser will shoot tomorrow.”

“I wish we could shoot him instead.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

I turn my attention back to the terminal: “As to this Rook guy. Do you think he acted alone?”

Krennic pauses to reflect: “Probably not. I know he was deployed to Eadu, but I think it’s unlikely that that’s were the breach originated. Can you control all his communications?”

“Yeah, but it will take a while. It will probably take all night for the software to go through all the records.”

“Better make it start immediately, then.”

I tap on the keyboard and I press the key to start the software, when I hear martial steps outside the room.

“Is Tarkin coming back?” Krennic says “What does he want?”

“I don’t know!”

“What if he wants to check what we are doing? And if he finds we’re investigating Rook, he will know that we don’t have the breach under control, and…”

The steps are approaching rapidly, and I can hear someone turning the handle of the door.

I think of Tarkin’s expression of disgust, of the way he studied my face, and suddenly I know what to do.

“Just trust me, ok?” I tell Krennic.

Then I pull him closer and kiss him on the mouth.

He seemed shocked and stiff at first, but after a moment he catches up- he relaxes and softly parts his lips.

The door opens and we stop just in time to see the two Stormtroopers that accompany Tarkin sniggering to each other.

“We’ll tell the Grand Moff you are occupied now”, one of them says.

“Get a cabin, you two”, I can hear the other sneer as he closes the door.

We remain completely still until we hear their footsteps leaving.

“Do you think they were checking if you were still on the comlink network?” I whisper.

“Of course they were!” Krennic replies. “Well, this probably changed their mind. Better that Tarkin thinks that I’m… celebrating in advance, rather than suspecting we are still investigating on the breach.”

“Yes… that’s… what I was thinking too.”

“Good call, by the way.”

I’m still in his arms, which makes it difficult for me to think straight. Yet, I don’t really want to move.

“Thanks, it was just, you know, a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, I obviously didn’t mean to-“ I stammer, then press some keys on the keyboard. “Well, anyway, I’ve just activated the protected mode, so unless I log in with my credentials no one can…”

“I think someone’s coming again”, he interrupts me then leans in to kiss me again.

It’s different this time, more intense- his tongue hesitates on my lips until I eagerly let it in, and his hands are on my cheeks again, pulling me closer for a deeper kiss.

My hands are at his sides, drawing him nearer, until I almost lose my balance and my back hits against the desk.

Krennic pulls away slowly, still looking at me.

“I… don’t think anyone was coming”, I manage to say.

“No?”, he replies, his voice hoarse, “I was so sure. Better be on the safe side, anyway. We can’t risk breaking the cover.”

My head is spinning- I can’t figure out exactly what’s happening between us. I just know what whatever we were doing before- I want it again.

“But someone is probably coming now”, I say, clutching him by the nape of his neck, while my lips find his again.

I can feel him smiling into the kiss for a moment- then his hands grab my buttocks and he lifts me so I sit on the desk. My legs spread to let him closer, finally feeling all his body against mine.

Something stirs in my lower belly, as his hand travels to my breast, and he’s so close to me I can feel his blaster pushing against my groin.

_Oh wait… that’s not his blaster._

When we part we are both breathless.

“We should probably go now”, he says. “It’s quite late, again.”

“Yeah”, I agree. “I’ll go back to my dormitory, and I’ll check in tomorrow to see what the software has found.”

And yet, neither of us moves, nor seems inclined to do so anytime soon.

Krennic rests his chin on my forehead, while he caresses my arms, and I keep pressing my body against his erection.

_I want him,_ I realize. _I want him so much that I can hardly breathe._

“Or…” he adds as an afterthought, “perhaps we could move to my cabin. To discuss further about… about…”

“The breach?” I suggest.

“Yes, exactly, that’s just what I thought.”

“Yeah, that sounds… very… reasonable”, I nod, trying to sound casual.

“Shall we, then?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand the rating has changed.
> 
> *slaps chapter roof* This baby can fit so much smut!

The walk to Krennic’s cabin feels infinite.

All the while I’m torn between worrying about what would anyone else think if they saw us (they don’t- thankfully we don’t meet anyone) and the desire to push him against a wall then and there.

Finally we reach his quarters, which are much nicer and, more importantly, more private than the dormitories where I reside.

We start kissing again the moment the door closes after us- it’s like a thirst; I don’t seem to be able to get my hands off him. He tastes like caf and something else that is entirely unique to him, something that I can’t get enough of.

He breaks the kiss to breathe, and starts nibbling at my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I start unbuttoning his trousers, but he stops me.

“Wait, wait”, he orders. “There’s no rush. In fact, it’s probably better to take things slowly.”

I frown: “Why?”

“Because I’m your superior officer and this could be a... tricky situation.”

I have no idea of what he’s talking about, and my face probably shows it.

“According to the Imperial Code of Military Justice”, he clears his throat and starts quoting it, “an intimate relationship between two officers of different rank is permitted only if the lower-ranking one gives their explicit and enthusiastic consent to every act of sexual nature.”

“You know this part off by heart, that’s impressive.”

Krennic shrugs: “I checked it last night.”

I can’t help but grin: “Did you?” No wonder he’s the architect between us. “Anyway, yes, I read and accepted all terms and conditions. Now let’s fuck.”

My hands return to the flap of his trousers, but he catches my wrists again.

“You see, it means that you have to explicitly authorize every single act. So, now…” he leads me towards his bed and makes me sit on it “we’re going to calmly get through our exact intentions.”

I am confused and slightly taken aback, but Krennic makes me lie on the bed next to him, and it feels so good to have his body so close to mine, and I guess that still means we get to bang, eventually.

I am not used to all this talk. I’ve spent most of my adult life in the army shared spaces, so that means that if you want to fuck, you have to do it as soon and quickly as you can, before someone interrupts you at the worst moment.

And yet, he just holds his face next to mine, caressing my hair.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

“Yeah.”

“Say it, then.”

“Kiss me”, I demand, and he finally obliges.

His tongue is slower and more deliberate this time- savouring and exploring the heat of my mouth.

His whole, solid weight is on me now, which makes my stomach flutter with longing. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him as close as I can.

His mouth moves to the spot behind my ear, across my jawline, to my throat.

Suddenly I can’t stand the presence of the high-collared jackets of our uniforms, and I start unbuttoning his; he lets me do it this time, until finally I get rid of that heavy, caped garment.

Underneath he just wears a white shirt: it makes him look different, less intimidating- and much younger, boyish, even.

I remove the shirt too, and I can finally run my hair on his smooth, hairless chest.

His skin is flushed on the neck and milky-white everywhere else, covered in tiny freckles that are more evident on the shoulders.

There’s a blaster wound scar on his left shoulder, which looks old but still very visible.

I touch it, feeling the rough edges of the scar tissue.

“Did it hurt?”

He nods: “Like hell”.

I place a soft kiss on it, then my mouth moves to taste the soft skin of his chest and stomach.

He smells like soap and sweat, and a hint of that fancy cologne he always wears.

Krennic’s fingers nip along the collar of my uniform.

“Do you want me to undress you?” he asks.

_Oh, fuck._

His voice is so sexy that I feel my knees buckle.

I’m starting to understand what game he’s playing. He wants to torment me with anticipation.

It’s only when I consent that he finally gets rid of my uniform and of the regulatory underwear beneath it. I lift my hips to help him remove the lower layers and the feeling of his skin against mine intensifies my yearning.

I can feel he’s rock-hard against me, too- so what is he waiting for?!

His big, warm hands cup my breasts, his fingers brushing lightly against my nipples.

I let out a groan- I can’t take it anymore. I want him so bad…

“Do you want me to kiss your tits?” he asks, his tone seemingly innocent, but his voice even lower and rougher, his lisp more noticeable than ever.

Damn his voice… I feel like I could come just by the sound of it.

“Yeah…”

“Do you?” he teases.

“Please!” I urge him.

His mouth finally lowers on my breast, and I feel the brush of his tongue on my nipples, before he kisses them harder, sucking on them until they are almost painfully sensitive.

He places a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses on my stomach, sliding lower and lower- he grabs my buttocks and spreads my legs, and I buck my hips closer to his face… until he suddenly stops.

“Oh, come on!” I protest.

“Do you want me to lick you? Is that what you’re asking me?”

“Yes…”

He nips lazily at the inside of my thighs: “Are you sure? Because when I say enthusiastic…”

I can hardly stand still. It’s torture… delicious, yes, but...

“Krennic, please…” I moan desperately, “please, I beg you…”

He grins: “Now, that’s more like it.”

When his mouth finally touches the point at the apex of my thighs the pleasure is so intense that I think I might reach completion then and there- his tongue describes circles on that sensitive spot, over, and over, then slides one of his thick fingers inside me, rubbing from the inside that very same place, and…

Pleasures explodes from my lower belly to my spine, as I tremble and shudder, and he lets me ride it out, licking me slower and slower, until the last sparkle has extinguished.

When I look at him again, he smirks, seemingly very satisfied with himself. I almost have to laugh because he somehow manages to be a vain, pretentious jerk even when he has just given me a devastating orgasm.

I flip him on the bed, helping him get rid of his black trousers and his underwear.

_Oh, fuck… Wagg apparently didn’t lie._

He lets out a groan when I grab him, then run a finger down him.

I lick the base of it, where his skin is rough, then explore its length, drawing slow circles on the way to the top, much like he was doing moments before.

I let my lips brush its tip, then I stop abruptly.

“Wait a minute”, I say. “I think that, to proceed, I need an official authorization signed by the highest official in command, in double copy-“

“This is cruel”, he exhales.

“Serves you right.”

But he has suffered enough. I encircle him with my mouth, then take him deeper, sucking on him slowly at first, then progressively harder.

His delicious, musky smell fills my nostrils, my tongue, my throat- I am drunk on it.

I savour his taste, realizing that it’s slowly changing, as I feel salty drips on my tongue.

He might come in my mouth, I realise, but- what the hell, I don’t even care.

If this is what he likes, I want to give it all to him, just as he’s done with me.

But after a moment Krennic makes me stop and lifts my head to kiss me fully on the lips.

“I want to fuck you”, he says, his voice so guttural and lust-filled that I feel a pang of desire.

“Yeah”, I nod. “I consent, I agree, I beg you, just do it, ok?”

He holds my face in his hands as I get momentarily lost in his eyes: “Yes.”

He fumbles frantically in a drawer beside his bed, until he finally finds some condoms.

I help him wear one, my hands almost shaking with anticipation, then he’s above me again- he brushes his fingers against the inside of my folds, to check that I’m ready (and I am, damn, I’m drenched), and lets me guide him in.

I flinch at first- he feels big to the point of discomfort- so he pauses inside me for a couple of long, deep breaths, then starts to move ever so slowly, until my body adjusts around his presence, and there’s nothing left but pleasure.

I close my eyes as his thrusts grow deeper and harder, moving my hips to meet his movements.

For a while I am so taken by the sensation that I can think of nothing else.

Krennic is panting and grunting now, slamming into me faster- when I open my eyes I see his handsome face concentrated in his pleasure, his eyes closed, sweat dripping all over his face. He couldn’t be different from his usual, contrived self- he’s genuine, and free, and beautiful.

I lift my hand to move his grey hair matted to his forehead and he opens his impossibly blue eyes- he seems confused for a moment, as he had almost forgotten about me.

“I can’t last much longer”, he whispers, “but I’m going to make you come again, ok?”

I just manage to nod, and he grips my thighs to lift them, one after the other, over his shoulders, then plunges into me again, even deeper, touching some inner, sensitive spot again, and again…

I moan as the fire mounts inside me again, relieving the built-up tension, as I buck up my hips in erratic, uncontrolled movements. He soon follows me, groaning low in my ear and thrusting himself with some last, unrestrained pushes, then collapses over me with a satisfied sigh.

“I can’t believe it”, I say, in awe.

“What are you- oh please, don’t.”

“No, no, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. Wow, I am… speechless.”

I’m standing in front of Krennic’s open wardrobe, while he is still sprawled on the bed, seemingly too exhausted to even lift his head from the pillow.

Let me tell you, this guy has spent a _fortune_ in clothes.

“How many capes do you have? One, two, three… and I thought it was always the same one. And look at this jacket! This is amazing, where did you even get it? Ah, you’re better than that doll that little girls have in Coruscant, you know, that one for which you keep buying more and more clothes and accessories…”

A resigned exhalation comes from the bed.

“Don’t hate on me just because I have a fashion sense.”

I keep going through his clothes, finding more and more unexpected gems.

“I can’t believe it… you have a winter version!” I roar with laughter, taking out of the closet a white, fur-lined caped coat. “And there’s a matching hat too! Oh shit, I bet you look like a complete dickhead in this.”

“Well, for your information some planets are very cold and… just leave it where… oh, no”, Krennic sighs, as I take the hat from its case and try it on.

“I must say, this fur thingies on the side do keep the ears warm.”

“See? Custom made.”

“Sir, your talents are wasted on advanced weapons. You should be a stylist”, I try to see my face in the mirror inside the closet’s door. “I kind of want one too now.”

Suddenly Krennic lifts himself off the bed as much as he needs to snatch the hat from my head and put it on his: “So, do I?”

“What?”

“Look like a complete dickhead.”

I nod: “Yeah, you do”, I climb astride of him. “A sexy dickhead, though.”

He smiles, then grabs my breasts and buries his face on them, making me giggle.

“Who could have imagined that that ugly uniform was hiding such beauties?”

“I am surprised too”, I admit. “I mean, you lived up to your reputation…”

Krennic lifts his head: “Ah, so you _did_ know about my reputation”, he smirks.

“I made some investigation”, I admit. “Mind you, it wasn’t easy. I had to dig deep… half-forgotten tales, passed from generation to gener-“

I can’t finish the sentence because he pushes me back on the bed: “You are a very dangerous, subversive element. I must keep you in check.”

“Yeah… do that.”

Krennic slides on the bed, embracing me from behind. His hand is still on my tits and I can feel he’s hard again.

He slides inside me smoothly and brings me over the edge easily, while he nips at my neck and whispers unrepeatable things in my ear, his voice guttural with tiredness and lust, and his hand rubs between my thighs in sync with each thrust.

Later, we’re lying on the bed, and I’m too tired to do anything but softly caressing his head.

“Your hair is curly when it dries naturally”, I notice.

His voice is muffled against my chest: “Yes, I know.”

“Do you blow-dry it every morning?”

He turns to look at the ceiling: “Actually, I do… no, stop laughing, it’s very quick when you get the hang of it and…”

“But why would you do that?”

He shrugs: “You know, it’s all part of my carefully constructed image. It may seem vain or useless to you but… I wasn’t born in a rich or powerful family, everything I have I had to build it myself. The way they see me, this…” he gestures towards the wardrobe, “it’s all I have. Those people, they always protect each other. But if I fall, no one’s got my back.”

_I got your back_ , I want to tell him. But I understand that’s not what he means; I can’t help him with his career aspiration. I’m literally no one.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I prefer you like this.”

“Naked?”

“That too. But I meant… more spontaneous. And curly-haired.”

He hesitates: “Was I… better than the tentacles?”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“The Mon Cala guy…”

I can’t help but laugh in his face again: “Oh come on, I didn’t bang the squid. I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, thank goodness”. He sounds positively relieved.

“I’ve only had sex with humans”.

“Who’s being racist now?” he teases me.

“Why, did you fuck some strange alien specimen…?” I study his face “Oh dear, you did.”

“They weren’t that strange… they were mostly semi-human”, he yawns.

“Mostly?” I groan. “No, no, wait, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Why not?”

I shirt uncomfortably: “I don’t know, it’s just… If I hear about your hedonistic phase I’ll probably get retrospective performance anxiety, or something like that.”

He chuckles, his eyes closed: “You don’t need to worry about that. It wasn’t like… it wasn’t like this.”

“Why not?”

“Well, back then… I used relationships as a way to get connected to the right people, you know, enter the right circles… it was all a part of a bigger strategy.”

His voice sounds groggy with sleep.

“That sounds surprisingly like prostitution.”

He shrugs it off: “Look, I’m not saying it wasn’t pleasurable… but in the end it had become stressful and… well, it wasn’t something that I would do just for the sake of it.”

“So what do you want to do for the sake of it?”

He yawns again: “Right now I just want to sleep.”

“Ok, let me just take my clothes. At this time hopefully there shouldn’t be anyone awake, but if I meet someone I’ll just say that… hey, Krennic?”

He’s already asleep, and his whole weight blocks me on the bed.

“For fuck’s sake…” I swear, as I try, fruitlessly, to disentangle me from his grip, but it seems that the more I try to sneak away, he holds me even harder.

In the end I just give up- all in all, it feels surprisingly good to lie with his in his warm bed, his rhythmical breath lulling me to sleep, and what’s the worst that can happen if I close my eyes… just for a moment?

In that moment I don’t know it yet, but, as it turns out, things are about to go spectacularly bad.


	5. Chapter 5

I wake up feeling a pair of hands groping my tits, and it takes me a moment to realize that I’m still in Krennic’s bed.

I feel still sleepy and slightly disoriented- but not in a bad way.

Krennic’s mouth is on my neck and he shifts his weight above me, obviously ready to get going again.

I breathe in the delightful, intoxicating scent of his skin.

All in all, it’s not the worst way to start a day, I think, cautiously opening my eyes.

He looks like a mess (his hair dishevelled, his eyes puffy from sleep, or perhaps the lack thereof): for a moment, I think that he’s never been so attractive.

Unfortunately, I also see something else behind him: the alarm.

“Shit!” I exclaim. “I should be at the staff meeting already!”

Krennic emits a noise of protest: “Just tell them I held you back because there was a very important maintenance job to do…” he suggests, placing my hand between his legs.

I feel a pang of desire, but- “Tarkin expects you to try the laser in fifteen minutes!”

He opens his eyes and jumps up from the bed: “Oh, shit!”

I frantically try to trace my clothes from the night before, that seem to be scattered all over the room, while Krennic fumbles in his ridiculously stuffed wardrobe.

When I’m more or less presentable, I go to the door: “Good luck with the laser. Blow those fuckers up!”

He stops me before I turn the handle to place a last, hasty kiss on my mouth: “I’ll see you later.”

He only wears his underwear and a shirt, and every fibre of my being protests at the idea of leaving- but I really have no choice.

I use all the shortcuts I know to get to the Tech room in record time.

I couldn’t find the t-shirt I had underneath the uniform jacket and I’m pretty sure one of the socks I’m wearing isn’t mine, but there’s no way anyone can tell, I reassure myself.

I school my features in a neutral, bored expression, and I enter the room, finding everyone gathered around Maryn, that is giving directions.

“Oh, Natyl, nice of you to join us”, she says. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I…er…” I stammer. “There was a queue at the refreshers.”

She just stares at me for a moment, then rolls her eyes.

“Anyway, as I was saying before, today we have to be ready to step in should anything go wrong. It’s the first time the laser is tested- if it works properly we won’t have to do much, but you know how these things go, so each of you should keep a system under control…”

Maryn starts giving directions to us about what we should do during the test, and I find myself unable to concentrate.

I feel I’m carrying a big, shiny sign on my head that says “I fucked Director Krennic (and enjoyed every minute of it)!!!” as if anyone could tell just taking a look at my face.

But it’s just paranoia- no one is looking at me, they are all too nervous for the test and concentrated on what they should do.

“They are probably starting the initialisation of the laser right now, so let’s go”, Maryn urges.

The group scatters; Wagg meets my eye and gives me a greeting nod.

“You look good today”, he says.

“Oh, thanks…?”

He studies my face: “Yeah, you’re like... glowing or something. Your jacket is inside out, though.”

I blush: “Ah, er... yeah, I overslept and… thanks for telling me.”

I’m only vaguely aware of the task that I was given, but there’s something I need to do straight away, even before fixing my uniform.

I move to the server room and tap on the keyboard of the terminal that I used to check Bodhi Rook’s communications.

My heart misses a beat when I find… nothing.

There’s no trace of the query that I set up yesterday.

“What the fuck…?” I exclaim, going through the recent documents, the temporary files, everything.

The search seems to have completely disappeared.

I desperately check, again and again, trying to figure out what happened.

“Natyl”, says a voice behind me.

It’s Maryn.

“Yeah, sorry”, I start. “I know I’m supposed to be checking the security protocols but… I had an urgent task to complete and…”

“I know. I found it this morning.”

I gape: “You what?”

“The research you made about the defecting pilot. His location, his communications…”

“But… I used the protected mode and…”

Marys scoffs impatiently: “I over-rid it. I have higher credentials than you.”

“Who… what did it say?”

“The breach comes from someone on Eadu”, Maryn replies.

Eadu… that’s Krennic’s friend base. That Galen something.

_He was so sure he could trust him… this will crush him._

“I need to tell Krennic”, I state, moving to the door.

Maryn, however, stops me: “There’s no need to do that. I already took care of it.”

“You told him?”

“I didn’t tell Krennic, I gave all the results to Tarkin.”

“Tarkin?!”

My ears are filled with a low buzz.

_No, no… this is bad._

“Why did you do that?”

“Because he’s a fucking general and he’s the one who told us to do the job in the first place!” she snaps. “What the hell have you even been doing? Hiding information from the Grand Moff? Are you out of your damned mind?!”

I hesitate: “I… Krennic said…”

“You know what would have happened if someone who’s not me found out? Like one of his death troopers, for instance?”

“It was… I was going to…” I take a deep breath. “I would have transmitted everything to the Grand Moff, eventually, I was just gathering all the information. That’s all. But I really need to let the Director know…”

“Don’t even think about it. Tarkin will take care of it.”

“No, no!“ I almost scream in frustration. “He needs to know. This is bad news, it’s probably his friend who betrayed him, and he’s going to think that I went behind his back and…”

“What the fuck, Nat!” Maryn scoffs. “Who even cares what Krennic thinks?”

“ _I_ care!” I yell.

Marys just looks at me, then sighs, appearing very tired: “Oh shit. Shit. It’s true, then”, she shakes her head, “you are really banging Krennic.”

I shift my weight from foot to foot. There’s no point in denying it, she knows me too well.

“Oh, no, it’s even worse. You have a crush on him.”

“I… it’s just…” I struggle for the right words. “I just don’t want to contribute to fucking his whole life up, ok?”

Maryn looks at me with something that could be compassion: “You never cared about a single being in the entire Galaxy. And when you do, you choose Krennic, of all people?”

I shrug: “Well, you have to start somewhere.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but I know that Tarkin is going to get rid of him as soon as he proves that the Death Star works. He’ll use the breach from Eadu as an excuse.”

I pale: “He what?! Why?”

“The fuck Nat, how naïve can you be? Because we’re on a big ass planet- blowing weapon and he wants to be the one in charge, that’s why. And no one cares what happens to Krennic. He’s not as big a fish as he thinks he is.”

 _I care,_ I furiously think. _I care._

Suddenly, the whole spaceship trembles, as if it was hit by an earthquake.

The lights above us flicker.

Then we hear some jubilant noises from the Tech room.

“Must be the laser. It worked”, Maryn says.

In another circumstance, I would be celebrating.

But now, I don’t even care about the project I’ve been working on for almost ten years.

Not when its Director is about to get side-lined.

 _I need to talk to Krennic_ , I realise.

I might not have much time and I must tell him it wasn’t me who went behind his back, I need him to know…

I ignore Maryn’s protests and I storm out of the room, climbing my way to the main deck.

And then I see him.

Krennic doesn’t look at all like the person I left less than an hour ago.

His face is livid, his mouth set in a thin, harsh line.

He looks like he got ten years older in the space of minutes.

 _I’m late_ , I realise. He knows already.

It’s worse than that- he’s being escorted out by two death troopers.

Tarkin kicked him out then and there. What an asshole.

I must talk to him before he leaves.

I run closer to him: “Hey, wait a minute”, I call.

Krennic sees me and his expression shifts for a moment- but I can’t figure out if it’s a good thing or not.

“Orson, I…” I start.

“Don’t even dare show your face to me again”, he hisses.

His features are twisted: I’ve never seen such hatred, such contempt… and hurt.

And it’s directed to me.

I’m so scared for a moment that I only manage to step back.

The two death troopers suddenly get hold of him and I realise that his hand is at his blaster.

_Was he going to shoot me?_

I feel a hand on my shoulder and see Krennic freezing.

In shock, I see that Grand Moff Tarkin is at my side.

“Director, I hope you wouldn’t make a scene. Is it really necessary to have you forcibly dragged out of the station?”

Krennic just stares for a moment, then shakes the troopers’ grip off: “Not at all”, he replies, with all the dignity he can muster.

I know what it looks like, from his point of view: like Tarkin is protecting me, as if I was in cahoots with him. He did it on purpose, just to lash one last hit to Krennic. Cruel bastard.

 _I would never, ever_ … I want to tell Krennic.

But before I can say or do anything, the door closes, and he’s escorted to his ST 149.

I yank the General’s hand off my shoulder and just stare at him accusingly.

Tarkin’s eyes narrow.

“I gather that Director Krennic allowed you more liberties than it’s appropriate”, he coldly says. “I should inform you that I will not tolerate anyone stepping over boundaries. I expect you to do your job and be invisible unless you are explicitly summoned. Do you understand?”

I hate him with such an intensity that I could kill him.

For a moment I contemplate lashing out to him.

What is he going to do? Execute me?

He might as well, I realise.

So eventually, I do my best to recompose.

“Yes, sir”, I say through gritted teeth.

Tarkin doesn’t say anything, just turns away and leaves.

Through the station’s window, I see the ST 149 taking off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cheesy quote, but I couldn't help myself! :)


	6. Chapter 6

The days after the demonstration pass in a haze.

Tarkin’s men are all over the place, asking us the most stupid questions about how everything works. 

The whole station is in shambles: deliveries are not arriving, orders are not being sent, even the caf machines are all out of supplies.

They have no idea of how to manage the station, they just think it’s a big blaster they can point towards planets; which, of course, it also is, but it’s much more than that.

It’s as big as a moon and the whole management of it is very complicated.

In this chaos, Krennic is sorely missed, and not only by me.

I sent him several messages on his datapad, but I received no answer and, checking the metadata of the transmission, it appears that he hasn’t even opened them.

No one seems to know where he’s gone or what happened to him.

Since Tarkin seems to loathe the very sight of me and people that are disliked by Tarkin typically don’t live very long, Maryn has assigned me only to control tasks, which means that I mostly spend my days alone in the server room.

I am supposed to be grateful to her, rationally I know that: everything she did was looking out for me and trying to keep me out of trouble.

But a part of me is still mad at her for meddling at all. What would have happened if she hadn’t given the results of the investigation to Tarkin?

What if Krennic was still here, on his station?

Since I can’t stop worrying about him, I tracked his comlink’s signal the same way as I did for the defecting pilot: I put it on my datapad and when I’m bored (which is, in fact, most of the time), I watch the dot labelled with his name moving across the Galaxy: first on Eadu, then somewhere in the hyperspace, then reappearing on Mustafar.

The next day, I see him travelling to Scarif.

I suppose I’m comforted by the thought of him hopping from planet to planet: at least it means that he’s alive and well.

But I spend too much time wondering what he’s doing and if he will ever read my messages at all.

I should just forget about him and go on with my life as I did before.

I might ask to be transferred to another station; I imagine Tarkin would be glad to approve it. Although perhaps the best way to forget about Krennic is simply to stay here, the last place in the Galaxy where he would come back to.

I go to the canteen, where I take whatever they’re giving out today (canned soup, again: _someone_ needs to look into the food deliveries instead of appropriating space stations from their builder, I begrudgingly think) then eat my meal in silence.

Soon, I’m joined by Kodjor and Wagg: “Mind if we seat here?”

I shake my head: “Of course not.”

I can’t concentrate on the conversation, though, because my thoughts keep stubbornly going back to Krennic.

It’s only when something catches my attention that I am shaken out of my reverie.

“Such a pity, though, Scarif is a beautiful planet with a great climate. Hope we don’t fuck that up”, Kodjor says.

“What- why…?” I ask. “What does Scarif have to do with anything?”

Wagg looks at me patiently: “Haven’t you heard? We’re travelling there right now. They’re preparing the laser, there’s probably going to be another demonstration.”

I feel the soup coming back from the stomach to my throat: “Tarkin’s blowing up Scarif?”

“Maybe not all of the planet. He might use the laser at single reactor ignition, as in Jedha.”

Krennic is on Scarif.

_Krennic is on Scarif!_

The planet that is about to get at least partially destroyed.

“Nat, are you ok?” Kodjor asks, alarmed. “Are you about to throw up? ‘Cause this soup looks awful already, I really don’t need to…”

I can’t breathe- the collar of the uniform is choking me.

I undo a button, gasping for air.

_Krennic is on Scarif!_

“Natyl?”

“I’m… ok”, I manage to say. “Just remembered there’s something I forgot to…I just need… see you later.”

They shrug and go back to their meals while I rush out of the canteen and open my datapad.

There he is, that stupid fucker. Still on Scarif, apparently at the Imperial Base.

I furiously type a series of messages to him (“The Death Star is coming to Scarif, leave immediately!” “We’re about to blow up the fucking planet” “LEAVE NOW YOU IDIOT”), but he doesn’t seem to even open them.

Fuck. _FUCK!_

What is he even doing?!

I have no choice: I need to go on the main deck to see what is happening.

I run past Maryn, that tries to call me back, but I ignore her.

Out of the windows, I can see that we’ve already entered the planet’s orbit.

After some minutes I reach the main deck.

It’s full of Tarkin’s people- the lieutenants and officers he brought with him when he took hold of the station.

The know bugger all about the Death Star, I think with resentment.

But one thing is clear: they’re preparing the laser.

“Ready to fire in fifteen minutes, sir”, I hear someone saying.

“No, wait, don’t!” I exclaim.

The whole bridge turns to look at me, perplexed.

Tarkin’s expression is not difficult to read this time: his face screams “oh no, not you again.”

“You are ordered to leave the bridge deck immediately”, he coldly utters.

“Sir, with all due respect…”

“Leave now!”

I take a deep breath: he must listen to me, I need to not antagonize him.

“I respectfully ask permission to issue Protocol 23 on Scarif”, I say, as calmly as I can.

Protocol 23 is routinely implemented to evacuate all our forces before we blow some shit up.

Krennic issued it before hitting Jedha- Tarkin has to apply it, he must…

“Denied. Now get off my bridge or…”

I am almost in tears now- he _must_ listen to me.

“Sir, please… please…there are imperial forces still on the base and…”

Tarkin turns to one of his officers and barely nods to him: the soldier immediately moves towards me, to remove me from the room.

“General, please… Director Krennic’s on Scarif!” I desperately plead, as the officer drags me by the arm.

Tarkin scoffs: “I am aware of it, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for him. He made his bed, now he has to lie in it. Although…” he shoots me a contemptuous look, a faint smile curling the corners of his lips, “you are more familiar with Krennic’s bed than any of us, surely.”

The whole room sniggers and I feel my face turn red.

“However, no matter how intimate you were with the soon-to-be late Director, that grants you no rights to interrupt the station’s operations or to question my orders”, Tarkin continues. “I have no time to deal with you right now. Go back to your quarters and consider yourself confined until new order. And expect consequences.”

He stares at me as if he was waiting for an answer.

“Yes, sir”, I mutter, looking him straight into his thin, cruel eyes.

The officer escorts me outside the deck.

My mind is racing, the shadow of a plan forming slowly.

This station is not Tarkin’s bitch. 

I worked on it for seven years. It’s _my_ bitch. 

And if he’s not going to give me his permission then he can fuck right off.

Everyone can fuck off.

I take an elevator to the X-wing hangar- it’s not an area that I know so well, but I log into the main computer and enable one to leave the station.

“Authorization not granted”, says the screen.

_Shit._

My rank is not high enough to authorize the ship to leave the base- but, wait, there’s someone else who can.

I use Krennic’s credentials to access, I know them off by heart now: predictably none of those fuckers loyal to Tarkin had thought of cancelling his authorizations to the system.

I have to force the system not to let everyone know what I’m doing- I override all the security protocols, one by one, but in the haste I do something wrong, because suddenly a map of the Unknown Regions shows up on the screen, along with some cryptical information.

“Contingency?” I read “The fuck is this?”

I send everything to my datapad, just in case, then I enable an X-wing to leave the station.

I hastily pick up a pilot’s helmet and I’m about to jump into the ship when I hear Maryn’s voice calling my name.

“Natyl.”

I turn towards her.

“Please”, I say. “I don’t have much time to explain but…”

“I think I figured it out by myself”, she says dryly. “But Nat… if you leave the station now, you’re a deserter, forever. You understand that, don’t you?”

I sigh: “Yes, I know.”

“This is your life. Is it really worth it?”

I stare at her.

What am I supposed to say? Maybe it is? Probably not, but if I don’t do it, the thought will haunt me forever?

In the end, she just shakes her head.

“I can delay the launch code. It will give you five, maybe ten more minutes to get your ass off Scarif. Make them count.”

For a moment, I’m too shocked to do anything.

“Maryn, I… thank you”, I say eventually.

_For helping me, for looking out for through all these years, for being the closest thing to a family I’ve ever had._

This is what I’d like to tell her, but there’s no time.

“Go!” she urges me while starting to tap on the computer’s keyboard.

I jump on the X-silently thanking the mandatory pilot training I had to do when I joined the army… and then the station’s huge doors open and I’m launched into Scarif’s atmosphere.

It takes me a moment to remember the commands to fly the X-wing, but thankfully it all comes back.

Scarif’s sky is full of ships- the Imperial fleet is fighting against the Rebellion, so I do my best to get to the base without anyone noticing me.

Luckily a series of explosions diverts everyone’s attention and I can safely land on the base’s communication tower, where I last intercepted Krennic’s comlink’s signal.

And then I see him. He’s on lying face-down on the floor, and for a moment I fear he might be dead.

But then I see his head moving- he’s painfully trying to get up.

I run out of the X-wing and I try to push him on his feet.

“Come on, get up!”

Krennic looks at me as if he’s seen a ghost: “Natyl… what…?”

He winces when I put a hand under his arm to support him, and I see that there’s a nasty blaster wound on his chest.

“Oh shit!”

There’s no time to tend to that.

Above us, the Death Star is already opening the laser hatch, ready to fire.

All I can do is half push him and half drag him to the X-wing, then put him on a seat.

“Don’t die, Krennic”, I yell, as I fasten his seatbelt. “Don’t you fucking dare dying on me, ok?!”

He only manages to feebly nod.

As I start the X-wing, I can already see the laser firing above us.

“We have to jump into hyperspace”, I say to myself.

“It won’t… work” Krennic coughs up from his seat. “You have to take off first…”

But there’s no time for that, so all I can do is push the button anyway, at the same moment that the laser hits on the communication tower.

Krennic’s right, of course.

It doesn’t work.

We don’t even go anywhere near hyperspace- all that happens is that the hyperdrive makes the ship zoom over the surface of the planet, propelling it forward.

The oceans and islands of Scarif roll below the ship, as the blast wave of the laser hit rapidly follows us, closer and closer… until it hits the X-wing.

The ship shakes and wobbles as I try my best to keep control of the commands… in vain, though.

The X-wing crashes on the surface, sliding for miles through trees and vegetation until it stops on sandy ground.

Upon the impact, I hit my head against the control stick.

When the ship is finally still I open my eyes: the X-wing is thrashed, its structure twisted and deformed by the collision- but we’re alive.

In his seat, Krennic groans in pain, his eyes closed.

I stagger to my feet and get the first-aid kit which is part of the standard equipment of every ship.

Krennic looks only barely conscious when I cut his uniform open and find the wound- the blast has perforated his torso from back to chest, and it must hurt like hell, but at least it doesn’t seem to have damaged any vital organ.

I apply a bacta patch on the wound, spreading the gel liberally, and, little by little, his face starts to gain some colour back, his breathing becoming more regular.

At last, he opens his eyes, and stares at me, confused.

I don’t know what to say, or how to explain my rash actions.

“You’re going to have a scar on this side too, to match the other”, I say at last.

“Good”, he manages to utter. “I love symmetry.”

I can’t help but chuckle.

_Vain dickhead_ , I think with affection, as I move his sweaty hair from his forehead.

He looks at me with his crystal-blue eyes.

“You came back for me”, he says, sounding almost incredulous.

“Yeah, well… I tried to warn you that the Death Star was coming, but you didn’t read the message, so…” I shrug.

“You came back”, he repeats. “How…?”

“I stole a X-wing”, I explain, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“Fucking Tarkin wouldn’t issue Protocol 23! That bastard!”

Krennic frowns, indignant: “He used my own weapon against me.” 

“I know!”

“That fucker! I’ve spent almost twenty years building it and…” he shakes his head. “I’m so done with all those pricks. They have no idea what to do with that station. They don’t deserve it.”

I shake my head: “They could barely start the propulsors.”

“I bet they’ll have it blown up under their asses in no time.”

“Does that mean you’re rebel scum now?”, I joke.

Krennic rolls his eyes: “Oh, please, no. I hate those dickheads too. I hate everyone in this Galaxy, the Empire, Tarkin, Vader, the rebels, all the fucking Erso family... they can all fuck off.”

I nod, then take a deep breath.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you that I didn’t tell Tarkin about the breach in Eadu. My boss found the results before I did and…” I sigh. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but-“

“Oh, come on”, he interrupts me. “You’ve just defected the Imperial Army and almost got blown up by a super laser just to come and get me- of course I believe you.”

I smile, relieved, and he returns a feeble smirk.

“That station was my life”, he then says, looking anguished again. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do now. Tarkin and Vader both tried to kill me. How can I even go back? Shit, if that’s who’s in charge, the Empire is doomed.”

That suddenly reminds me of something, and I take my datapad, which has miraculously survived the impact.

“Yeah, about that. Apparently you’re not the only one who thinks so. I stumbled on this while I was hacking the system.”

For a moment, he looks at me as if he was about to tell me off, but then remembers it’s not his business anymore.

“Look, there’s a whole secret project to back up the Empire, should the Emperor die. They’re hiding somewhere way past Jakku. I bet not even Tarkin knows about it.”

Krennic scrolls the data, and I can see he’s impressed.

“That’s actually very interesting”, he says. “I bet they could use some return of experience from the Advanced Weapon Research Program.”

“Yeah, they surely do. You can build them something even better than a Death Star. Like, I don’t know, a “starkiller”, or something.”

He nods, and I can see his thoughts are racing.

“What about you?” he asks at last. “Planning to go back to the Army?”

“Ah, well, not really. I don’t look forward to facing Tarkin and the martial court. I was thinking that I could find some planet to lie low, get a different name, avoid the soldiers, you know…”

Actually, I haven’t thought about it at all. I haven’t had any time to think about the future after the moment I would get Krennic and myself off Scarif.

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”

For a moment, we just stay in silence, while I contemplate the uncertain future before me.

“Or,” he adds as an afterthought, “you could come to the Contingency project with me. I could use a good IT technician. Someone I can trust. The only one, in fact.”

I can’t help but beam like an idiot.

“I don’t know…” I reply, trying to sound casual. “I mean, the Unknown Regions- do they even have decent caf there?”

He doesn’t quite smile, but his eyes are shining.

“I’ll make sure we’ll find some.”

Krennic takes my hand and just holds it, pulling me closer to him.

I’m not sure what this sensation is, this warmth that I feel whenever I’m with him- it takes me a while to figure out that, despite we are in a wrecked ship in the middle of a devastated planet with no idea of what will happen next, it might as well be happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My little murderous babies, off to destroy people. :')
> 
> Thanks for reading this fic, hope you had as much fun as I had writing it!


End file.
